


emma’s intriguing encounters with the various personas of one tim drake

by blueeeee



Series: gotham's various cryptids: tales of a tired waitress [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Gen, Poor Emma, Tim Drake is a human disaster, WHAT HAPPENED TO ME, back at it again with the, hes just a disaster, honestly why do i do this, i don't want to put this in the relationship tags but, i used to write pretty poetry, in every way shape and form, tales of a tired waitress, tim drake is a fashion disaster, tim drake/coffee (implied)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26046679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueeeee/pseuds/blueeeee
Summary: tim drake had dragged himself into waffle house, of all places, with one thing on his mind: coffee.
Series: gotham's various cryptids: tales of a tired waitress [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890028
Kudos: 61





	emma’s intriguing encounters with the various personas of one tim drake

honestly? tim was a kindred spirit.

dragging himself into waffle house with one thing on his mind: coffee.

emma could relate.

however, there was one key factor to all of these visits. this was a waffle house, not a coffee house. and as such, they had one rundown machine that made shitty coffee.

tim bought them a new one.

a shiny, brand new, latest and fastest model, like the kind you see in starbucks or whatever.

why he didn’t just go to a normal coffee shop, emma will never know. but regardless, he tipped well, so who cares?

they were now the most popular waffle house in gotham. not that there were many to begin with, but still.

and now, on with the encounters. because honestly? thats what they were. encounters. there is no way someone fully human could survive with so little sleep and so much caffeine. 

yeah. emma was pretty sure the wayne’s were cryptids, especially with the jason todd fiasco last week.

anyway. continuing on.

~~~

now, seeing tim drake running somewhere with eye bags the color of eggplants was not an uncommon sight in gotham. it was what he was wearing that was the problem.

a bright, neon pink crop top with black lacy writing that said ‘kiss me, i’m irish’ paired with it were black booty shorts over pantyhose and glittery yellow birkenstocks. 

closer up, she could see he had blue eyeliner and his nails were painted black.

overall, a fashion disaster.

highly amused, emma asked for his order.

“bacon, and the most caffeinated drink you have. actually, you know what? make the coffee with redbull instead of water. taste doesn’t matter to me.”

emma, now thoroughly terrified, but also kinda impressed, stuttered for a second before making the poor man his coffee. red bull included.

he downed it in one gulp. completely forgetting his bacon, he handed her a fifty and left.

“keep the change.”

~~~

this happened multiple times.

~~~

meeting red robin was a, well, it was an experience, putting it lightly.

he was honestly more of a disaster than tim drake was.

which is surprising, considering emma was 75% sure that they were the same person. either the waynes were the bats, or jason todd killed red hood. 

she didn’t know which idea was crazier.

~~~

it was around midnight, and emma’s nightshift had just began when the screaming started.

‘fucking hell gotham, can you go ONE DAY without a disaster? please, that’s all i ask.’  
a quick google search led her to believe it was the riddler. at least there wouldn’t be too many deaths.

emma was content to sit back and do her homework in the morbid comfort that at least she didn’t have to be nice to assholes during an attack. that and the fact that no sane person would go to a waffle house during a supervillain fight.

unfortunately for her, red robin is not sane.

he slammed open the doors a la aragorn in that one scene (you know the one), scaring the shit out of her, and tossed her his wallet. that’s right. his whole wallet. which probably has his civilian id in it.

“i have twenty minutes to complete this riddle or twenty people die. make me your red bull specialty. please.”

“well that's a finals mood. need some paper?”

“that would be appreciated, yes.”

emma made the poor vigilante some coffee and watched while he muttered to himself about ‘dumbass dick wads’ ‘goddamn mental health issues’ god ain’t that a mood, and probably the strangest of them all, ‘questionmark kinks.’ which, in her opinion, needed a little bit of context.

about five minutes were left before the (what she assumes are explosives) go off and twenty people die, he jumped up.

“fuck yeah! god, i’m an idiot. it’s so obvious! toilet paper.” red robin ran out of the restaurant.

“........the fuck?”


End file.
